Justice
by Yukina zero
Summary: Jason decides to let the people of Gotham determine Jokers fate.


Jason looked down into the chaotic streets of the city, turned frantic with excessive energy at tonight's events. Francis the gargoyle his ever silent companion to his left. A cooling gun in his right hand. His mind seemed to be both a mess of mixed up emotions but also somehow calm and centered for the first time in 5 years. For the first time since he dug himself out of that god damned graved.

Staring out into the unusually joyous streets of Gotham's nightlife, a surreal feeling washed over him. People were laughing loud and carefree, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off their shoulders. Friends and family clutched each other close. To afraid to let go, as if the other might disappear in the next moment. The alcohol was eventually brought out and the streets were now covered by drunken masses, celebrating like they finally had a reason to for the first time in their lives.

Their behavior wasn't very surprising seeing as how their fears had been completely justified, a mere few hours ago. Amazing how much the world could change in just a matter of seconds.

7 hours ago the Joker had been reported breaking out of Arkham again.

6 hours and 30 minutes ago, Jason steeled his resolve into finally doing what he should have done the moment he stepped back into Gotham.

3 hours and 20 minutes ago, he walked into Amusement mile to face his greatest demon one last time.

Exactly 1 hour ago, he put two bullets in each of the Joker's legs(for Barbara) before bringing a crowbar down on his body over a dozen times(for him).

40 minutes ago, he had thrown the maybe corpse into the most crowded streets of Gotham after blowing the entire theme park to rubble, waiting to see the people's verdict. (for those who died)

37 minutes ago, seemingly every single citizen of Gotham, started to take out a decade's worth of fear and frustration on the monster.

14 minutes ago, an angry mob of some of the most vengeful people in the country had put the now definite corpse on a pike and _light him on fire_(for those who lived). The police neither intervened or joined them. They stood to the back and side. Their bodies forming a barrier around the crowd, the fire reflecting in their eyes. (They had been victims too)

Jason gazed down at the blazing pire, glowing so bright it almost looked sacrilegious in the moonlight. Maybe it was. While he had never been a religious person, now seemed a good as time as any to start believing. No one dared to say it out loud. As if the words alone could break this wonderful dream they were all sharing together, but they all saw it in each others faces. It shown in the eyes of everyone present here for maybe the first time in their whole lives. Hope.

It was ironic in a way. How reliving one of the worst days of his life, had lead him to arguably the best. When Bruce had first taken Jason back to Ethiopia he couldn't think of anything beyond the raging screams of anger and betrayal in his head.

However as he stood before the charged remains of the warehouse in which he had once been tortured and killed, the memories of it all came flooding back to him.

The frear.

The helplessness.

The need to protect his mother.

That had been all it took in the end, to remind him of his original cause. The desire to protect those that couldn't fight for themselves. To kill the Joker. Not for revenge, but so that the monster could no longer hurt others like him.

He smirked when he considered what Bruce would think if he knew that after everything he had done to get Jason to stop killing, it was him that finally pushed Jason over the edge. Might as well have put the gun in his hands, and pulled the safety off.

It didn't really matter what Bruce thought now though. Jason had made his choice. He chose the path of Red Hood over Batman and he didn't regret his decision in the slightest.

Taking a small pocket knight out of it's sheath he carefully cut out the bat stitched onto the chestplate of his costume. Once the piece of clothe was completely removed he folded it into the knife, and stood up. Reaching his hand back before fling it forward with the strength of his trained muscles, the items went flying in a perfect arch towards it's destination.

When the clothe landed at the top of the pire the tips of its stitches lit up next to the glittering mental of the small blade. Jason stood at the top of the roof gazing down at it until even the ashes were used up as fuel to sustain the burning inferno.

Then he turned his back to the liberated cheers of Gotham, and walked away.


End file.
